


Teach Me the Alphabet/I'll Teach You to Smile

by DilynAliceBlake



Series: Nostalgic For Your Love [1]
Category: Star Trek
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Alternate Universe, Angst, Bad Parenting, Drug Abuse, Implied Child Abuse, M/M, Neglect, Pining, Short Chapters, Tarsus IV, That's a warning in and of itself, Unbeta'd, along with the explicit neglect, and i'll tell you if it's in there/tag it, erratic updating, if something v specific triggers you msg me if you want, it's only fair to warn you, look there are a whole host of things okay, meet as kids, obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-05-29 12:21:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 32
Words: 10,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6374596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DilynAliceBlake/pseuds/DilynAliceBlake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock spends a lot of time watching Jim when they are younger.  When Kirk is appointed Captain of the Enterprise with Spock as first officer, he is excited to be reunited with his childhood friend (best friend, biggest crush, possible love of his life).  The problem is, Spock acts as if they are strangers; cold, distant, and ever conscious of “appropriate conduct between a Captain and an inferior officer.”  Jim is beyond hurt, and Spock is confused as to what he’s doing wrong.  Can an earful from McCoy set the situation to rights, or does Spock really hold no lingering sentiments after a childhood attached at the hip?</p><p>   No matter what the case, there’s a lot about their time apart that hasn’t yet been disclosed, from Spock’s practical disownment to Jim’s time away from earth on a certain colony.  Even if the friendship can be mended, can the hearts of those involved?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

   The ceiling is high, the walls and beams holding it up a pristine white.  Windows litter the above, and the skylights make the atmosphere within glow faintly blue.  The space is wide and open in a way different from the angular and eminently logical architecture of Vulcan that Spock is used to.

   Riverside is home to the best aeronautics museum within a reasonable distance from where Spock’s family is staying; likely because of the ship which is to be built here.  Spock, at the very respectable age of nearly twelve earth years, is plenty old enough to be out on his own, even on a strange planet, so long as he keeps the tracker on his PADD active and comms his mother every two hours to reassure her of his continued wellbeing.

   The small child who is in the Early Aviation room with him, however, Spock suspects is _not_.


	2. Chapter 2

   It has been an hour and a half, and no one has yet come to collect the blonde.  The child’s sandy hair is obviously uncombed, and his shoelaces are knotted awkwardly rather than tied in a traditional earth bow.  The longer he watches, the more signs of neglect become apparent.  Were Spock not Vulcan he would be worried.

   Eventually he completes his independent research, and it is time for him to examine the displays themselves more closely.  He begins, completely by coincidence, with an old, bulky crop duster near to where the boy is.

  Spock is contemplating how to address the smaller child when the decision is taken out of his hands.

   “You’re not a Terran,” he says, like that is not so obvious as to go without saying.  Then again, perhaps it is not.

   “I am _half_ Terran,” Spock clarifies.

  “What’th the other half?”

   “I am Vulcan.”  Spock thinks that this, too, should be evident, but he supposes he could just as easily be Romulan.

   “My name’th Jim,” says the child, and Spock thinks simultaneously about how forward the child is and how endearing his lisp would seem if Vulcans were susceptible to such things.

   “I’m four.  What’th your name?  How old are you?  What’th Vulcan like?  Can you read thith for me?”  At the last of the string of questions Jim points at the placard.  Were he not used to dealing with multiple questions at once during his schooling, Spock would perhaps be overwhelmed.  As it is, the familiarity in this strange place is oddly comforting.

   “My name is S’chn T’gai Spock.  I am approaching my twelfth year by the standards of your planet’s orbit.  Vulcan is a desert planet with a higher gravity and lower oxygen content than earth,” here Spock’s brow crinkles.  “Can you not read it yourself, Jim?”

   Perhaps, at least judging by the sudden shuffling of Jim’s feet, that was not the proper response to the last question.  It occurs to Spock that the starting age for formal education on Earth is older than Jim is currently, and that a caregiver who would not bother to teach Jim to properly fasten his shoes would likely not spare time to teach the basics of reading either.

   Spock elects to correct this gap in the child’s knowledge.

   “Jim,” he says, “would you like me to teach you to read?”


	3. Chapter 3

   Spock is surprised by how quickly Jim proves himself capable of learning.  It does not take long before Jim knows the entire Earth Standard alphabet, and is clumsily making his way through reading by himself.  Occasionally Spock will help him with one of the longer words, or see need to correct Jim’s pronunciation of something.  The exception to his desire to correct the child seems to be—

   “Thpock!” Jim exclaims, grabbing Spock’s hand and attempting to dragg him into the next room.

_Excitement, wonder, pleasure, hunger, joy, concentration, pride, admiration, ambition, nervousness, affection—_

   Spock tightens his shields, dizzy at just how much the Jim seems to be capable of feeling at once.  The level of elation pouring from Jim’s skin is foreign to Spock, and yet he finds he doesn’t mind it.  Spock is quickly discovering a great many surprising things about himself in relation to Jim.  It is to the point where not minding having his shields overwhelmed is hardly concerning.

   Ceasing to allow Jim to lead him, the Vulcan hones in on one of the many feelings that had transferred.

   “Jim,” Spock prepares to insist, “I believe now would be an optimal time to seek sustenance.”

   It takes the boy a moment to parse what Spock just said, but once he’s figured it out he can only nod hesitantly.  Even through his reinforced shields there is a notable spike in Jim’s worry and embarrassment, before the child juts out his small chin in a move Spock easily recognizes and identifies.  It is a look of stubborn pride, the sort that Spock will have to tread carefully around if he does not want the entire morning’s efforts at comradeship to blow away like rose petals in the wind.

   He must find a way to provide the boy with food without implying Jim has true need for it.


	4. Chapter 4

   Considering all of his options carefully, Spock comes up with a plan which has an 87.4% chance of working, depending on Jim’s “sweet tooth.”

  “I believe your successful efforts during the lessons this morning merit celebration.  Wait here, and I will return with a treat.”

   Spock is adapting behavior he has witnessed his mother utilize on two previous occasions.

   Once, when she threw a party with all of Sybok’s favorite foods in an obvious but surprisingly effective effort to put an end to his two week hunger strike.  And the second time, when Spock had disastrously attempted to try painting, and the results were so abysmal that even words like “abstract” could not sooth his ire.  His mother’s response was to set up a fire pit and throw a piece of (admittedly hideous) pottery that T’Pau herself had gifted his family into it.  When Spock had asked her, quite politely, _what_ she was _doing_ , his mother had said that it was “a therapeutic and guiltless expungement of undesired mementos.”

   Spock had not for a moment hesitated to toss his own painting into the pit, lest his father later discover it and hang it somewhere in an awkward attempt at suppor.  Sybok had gotten rid of an award winning report he had once done on the benefits of logic in emotionally driven careers.

   As Spock pays for Jim a banana split and his own smoothie, he relishes the memory of his father’s struggle at nonexpression when, upon asking where the decorative piece from T’Pau had gone, Amanda replied that she had “smashed and burned it in a fit of human emotion.”


	5. Chapter 5

   When he returns to the hall where he left Jim, Spock takes a moment to be relieved that the blue eyed human had not wandered off.  He holds the ice cream out to Jim, and consoles himself with the fact that both fruit and dairy are present within the monstrosity of sugar.

   “You must take it,” Spock says, “as it has chocolate, which Vulcans cannot consume.”

   It is with very little reluctance indeed that Jim digs into the chilled dessert.

   “Jim,” Spock feels the need to ask, “would you like to accompany me through the rest of the museum?”

   It is a question worth asking, for though every instinct within Spock insists that he keep an eye on the boy, now that he can read the information about the outdated vehicles himself Jim has very little reason to stay in proximity to a near stranger, particularly one who is only half human himself.

   Spock is keenly aware of how his mixed status places him firmly in the realm of “outsider.”

   Or, Spock _thought_ he was aware, up until Jim sends him such a look of shock that Spock realizes going through the museum separately had not even crossed his mind.

   A frission of positivity bubbles through Spock’s veins, and this time he knows that the emotion is wholly his own.


	6. Chapter 6

His speed hampered by the presence of a young child, Spock does not get everything done that he wished to within the time he has allotted himself to spend at the museum.  If he wants to complete his tour properly, he will have to cancel something else he has planned for this earth visit and return again tomorrow.  The idea is not as troublesome as it could be, and Spock wonders what Jim’s plans for the following day are.

   When it is nearing sundown, Jim’s steps slow, as if walking at a decreased rate can increase the time they spend together.  His method, of course, is nonsensical, and soon the boy is apologizing and explaining that he has to go meet his brother.

   “I shall walk with you,” Spock attempts to insist.  Jim is adamant that this not happen.

   Spock is not wholly convinced that the child will be fine, even if he _has_ survived this long without an alien minder.  Still, he and his smaller companion part ways with an agreement to meet again the following day and complete their trek of the museum.  Perhaps, here on earth, he finally has a chance at being good enough.

   His mixed heritage no longer weighs down on him.  Something about Jim has eased it from his shoulders in a way Spock has never dared to even dream about.


	7. Chapter 7

   Rather than stay at the museum without Jim, Spock heads back to his family’s temporary lodgings early.  His mind is more abuzz with the possibility of friendship than any sort of scientific observations on the displays he saw whilst out.

   “Spock, you’re back early.  Did you get bored with the museum?”  Spock’s mother’s voice is warm and musical, and yet sends a lick of panic down his spine.  In his side, Spock’s heart beats faster.  He cannot tell her about his comradery with the young child.  Not when it is so new, still as fragile as a butterfly’s wing.  If his mother suspects that Spock has made a friend she will demand he be invited over, and her enthusiasm may put an undue strain on the new companionship.

   “Not at all, Mother,” he assures.  “I merely decided to finish my perusal of their specimens tomorrow.”

   Spock makes casual observations about the alien architecture of earth, and how he had tried a smoothie and found it to be acceptable, if chilly.  His mother tells him about how her work is going while she slices vegetables to go into their evening meal. 

   When Spock’s father arrives home, he and his mother share a traditional kiss, as well as a few meaningful looks that have Spock beginning to feel worried.

   “Spock,” his father broaches the subject, “your mother and I were considering extending our stay on earth--”

  “Yes,” Spock interjects abruptly, practically enthused.

   “Spock,” his mother huffs with mirth, “we haven’t even mentioned for how long yet!”

   The boy smooths his robes and attempts not to look overeager or ruffled.

   “As I was saying,” Sarek continues with an impressively raised eyebrow, “Your mother and I were considering extending our stay on earth to number years rather than months.  However, as this decision will no doubt affect the quality of your education, we are taking your and Sybok’s opinions into account before purchasing a more permanent homestead.”

   Spock wonders where the house they plan to buy might be located, and how close to Jim might have a chance to _live_.

   Not that it mattered, Spock abruptly realized, fierce protectiveness suddenly boiling through his blood.  No matter the distance he would find a way to look after the child.

   It’s startling how quickly Jim has become such a focal point in Spock’s life.  In another universe, where he had not chosen to visit that particular museum that precise day, Spock knows he would have argued logically for the continuation of his education and cultural upbringing on Vulcan.  Perhaps even, in another universe, his parents would not have considered moving to earth, or may not have visited the planet with Spock in tow at all.

   None of that matters, because in _this_ universe, Spock sees his chance, and he dives after his purpose with both eyes open.

   When he thinks of tangled wheat hair and frail, defiantly set shoulders something in him _sings_.  He does not have a word for what he is feeling in Vulcan; if it exists he has not yet been exposed to it.  Spock settles for one in the language of his mother.

_Destiny_.

 

**a/n: still unbeta'd.  i'm thinking a few more chapters and then a pov switch.**


	8. Chapter 8

   Spock’s first order of business is to find a way to convince Sybok that earth is the preferable option.  He spends the remaining time before supper meditating on the potential challenge, but he needn’t have, because when their mother brings it up over dinner, Sybok looks ecstatic at the idea.

   Spock enquires as to why, and Sybok grins in a way that would surely make their (former?) classmates uncomfortable.

   “Religion,” Sybok explains, rather poorly in Spock’s opinion.

   The half-Vulcan attempts the face Sarek had made earlier.

   “What are you _doing_?”  Incredulity rings strong in Sybok’s tone, and Spock flushes green in a moment of lapsed control.  Amanda is struggling not to laugh.

   “Raising my eyebrow.”  Spock thinks this should be obvious.  “It’s an eloquent expression which can convey many things and hold much nuance.”

   “You look constipated,” Sybok crows.

   “I _do not_!”

   Mother has lost her fight, and sounds embarrassingly mirthful.

   Feeling more than sufficiently disgraced, Spock attempt to get the conversation back on track and away from bowel movements or a lack thereof.

   “What _about_ religion, Sybok?”  The condescension Spock tries to cram into his voice cannot overshadow how pitifully sullen he sounds.

   “I want to study them.  All of them.”

   Spock’s father’s eyebrows both climb towards his hairline this time, and Spock sighs internally at how ridiculous his family seems.

   He practices raising his eyebrow in the mirror that night, and it is _entirely_ logical.

 


	9. Chapter 9

   Most days James T. Kirk is left to his own devices until his brother Sam picks him up at the bus stop around sundown.  Sam is a teenager, and has better things to do than watch Jim, who’s so dumb he can’t even tie his own shoes.  Sam will tie them sometimes in the morning, but usually by the end of the day they’ve come undone and Jim tangles them together and crams them into the sides of his shoes so they won’t trip him if he has to run from the big dogs outside MacFarlan’s farm.  The eight year old there sets them after Jim on purpose sometimes, because she’s mean and thinks it’s funny.

   Stepdad Frank thinks that Jim is already in kindergarten, and on weekends it’s easy to lie and say that Sam is taking him to the park, or the museum, or some other place that if Jim wants to go to he gets to himself.

   The people in town all give him sad looks, but none of them ask him where his family is, because they all know that his dad is dead and his mom’s in space.  They know that Frank likes his liquor, and Jim isn’t really sure what they know about Sam that keeps them from calling his brother when he’s out wandering the streets alone, but no one does.

   Jim isn’t actually at risk of starving.  He knows how to work the replicator in the kitchen, and one of the places Sam is always disappearing to must be a job, because sometimes he brings home groceries.  When that happens for the next week or two Jim can stuff his pockets with snack cakes and crackers before leaving the house.  With farmland on all sides of the small town it’s not like there’s any shortage of fruits and vegetables available.  If the replicator is on the fritz again and he gets too hungry, then Jim knows which neighbors are prone to baking and likely to send him back with cookies or a pie if he goes to visit.

   Sam says that they won’t do that forever; that it’s only ‘cause he’s young and cute still, so he better enjoy it.  Sometimes Sam will remember that he’s Jim’s older brother, and give him advice on how to pick pockets, or use his missing teeth to charm adults.  Mostly they don’t talk to each other though, each living their own life, a respectful truce between them.  They stay out of each other’s way.

   It hasn’t always been that way.  Sam says that before mom got remarried, she couldn’t just leave them and go out into space.  When he was a baby, they still tried to be a family.  But then he started walking and talking, and must have messed something up, because now things are the way they are.

 

**a/n: incase it's not clear yet this story will probably be longish, since it takes place over a span of years.  then again, i could change up the style and that not be the case, so...idk.  thanks for reading, i guess, either way**


	10. Chapter 10

   Today Sam told Frank on their way out the door that they were going to see the new wing of the aeronautics museum.  Then in the car on the way to town Sam told Jim that he was going to see a girl, and then to work.

   Jim shuffles out of the front seat of the old fashioned wheeled automobile.  It isn’t a collectors or anything; Sam has one with wheels because he can’t afford one that hovers.  He’d got that one broken and fixed it, mostly.  It still made weird crunching noises sometimes, like the gears inside were angry and fighting, but Jim doesn’t worry about it.

   Instead he makes his way to the museum, which he actually does want to see the newest part of, and there he meets a Vulcan.


	11. Chapter 11

Jim doesn’t trust every kid he meets.  The MacFarlan’s daughter hates Starfleet, and takes it out on him.  Spock doesn’t remind Jim of her though; he’s older for one, but he’s not like Sam, besides being almost twelve, which is practically a teenager.  Jim doesn’t want them to meet, just in case Sam decides Spock is cool and steals Jim’s new friend.

Jim decides they’re friends when Spock is correcting him for the fourth time on one of his new letters and still hasn’t started yelling yet.  Even his mom, on her rare vidcalls, gets mad if he mispronounces something more than twice.  Last time she called she said she would wait to call again once Jim had started school and had some practice talking properly, which made Sam angry at him for a long time.

Spock doesn’t even seem to mind Jim’s lisp though.  Maybe it’s because he’s an alien and doesn’t know any better, but he says he’s half human, so that must not be it.  Jim learns the whole entire alphabet at the museum that day, and he’s nearly giddy with excitement at the prospect of all the books he’ll be able to read.

Spock says that he did such a good job he deserves a real ice cream sundae!  It’s much better than the replicated ones Jim has had before, and he suspects that there is something seriously wrong with their replicators programming.  Actual ice cream does _not_ taste like cardboard.


	12. Chapter 12

   Contrary to what the rumor mill may try and preach, Sam Kirk does not hate his little brother.  Sure, they don’t talk much, but the kid’s not terribly good at talking yet anyway.  Sam is too young to be a parent, and he doesn’t want to, either.  Raising Jim isn’t something he signed up for; so he doesn’t.

   It started out alright, with their mom there, but it was like once potty-training was over Jim wasn’t enough of a baby to guilt her into staying on earth anymore.  Sam thinks that the stars are as close as she can get to their dad.  Or at least, as close as she can get without seeing Jim’s face and taking a hit straight to the feelings.

   Sam can get that, he really can, but Winona kinda takes it out on Jim, and that just ain’t cool.  He’s torn between wishing she would make half an effort and wishing her luck in her career, since she’s obviously done here.

   Sam’s got a low pay job at a local transport repair place, and about four girlfriends and a problem with substance abuse.  He never shows up to work anything but sober, because the only reason he’s had as many warnings as he has about showing up high is his boss knows that, pill cruncher or not, he’s the only on who’s gonna buy groceries and clothes for the kid.

   Sam’s about sick of everyone treating him like he’s a disappointment just because he wants to live a little.  The only one who doesn’t, ironically enough, is Jim himself.

   Sam’s saving up to make his break, though.  He isn’t going to be around to much longer.  He’s no one’s parent.


	13. Chapter 13

   Winona Kirk doesn’t think she’s a bad mother.  She calls her kids when she can, though sometimes a few months pass by between video chats.  She’s very career oriented, is all, and her work takes a lot of dedication.  She provides, though, sending plenty of money for her kids to be more than looked after.  Frank and Sam can handle Jim, and in a few years she’ll be back on earth with her family.

   She just isn’t ready yet, is all.  The wound is still too fresh.

   Once Jim starts school, she’ll start calling more.  He really is impossible to understand with that lisp.  Winona hopes that by the time she finishes this tour, she’ll be talking to her kids regularly, and be missing home and counting down days.

   She just…Isn’t ready yet.  But soon.  Soon, she and her boys will all be together and it won’t break her heart to look at Jim in the face.  For now, she focuses on her job, and enjoys the stars.


	14. Chapter 14

   It takes a while for Sam to notice that something is up with Jim.  The kid seems… Happy, and it’s a little bit of a shock to realize he wasn’t before.  Sam was under the impression that kids were always happy unless they were throwing a fit.  It’s just how they worked.

   Only, apparently not, because as cheerful as Jim seems now, he must have been downright depressed before.

   The first thing Sam notices, aside from the creepy little grin Jim's adopted, is that the books are moving.  He doesn’t put two and two together right away, because _Jim can’t read_.  As long as he’s known him that’s been the case.  Kid hasn’t even started school yet, so what’s he doing with the books, besides playing with them?  Obvious answer.

   Which gets shot to hell, because one evening he’s going through the replicator menu, and it’s got an honest to god ice cream sundae programmed in there, albeit crudely.  Where before, the extent of their kitchen appliance’s abilities had been ice cream with fudge sauce, apparently now the thing can do a full sized banana split, down to the whipped cream and cherry.

   Sam doesn’t ever bother messing with the replicator.  He’s a mechanical sort of engineer, no knack for coding.  He thinks at first that maybe Jim stole a programming chip, or sweet talked someone out of it.  That theory is crushed too, because the basic coding guides that used to be on the shelf are all shoved into the cabinet closest to the thing, and any examples in the texts that are for food replicating have been bookmarked.  Literally, in the cases of the collectors texts, instead of the files on various PADDS.

   Sam almost wants to believe that it’s Frank’s doing, but if he was going to devote any sort of effort into programming the thing, it would be synthehol recipes bookmarked, not sweets.  Besides, what use does the chump have for a replicator when he can drink their Mom’s money away?

   So the only possible conclusion is that Jim’s been teaching himself to program.  Sam keeps the Net at their house locked, and the only signal local is news, so he doesn’t have a clue where Jim is learning to read.

   But, in the end, Jim isn’t his kid, so it isn’t really his problem.  He probably won’t eat himself sick on ice cream more than once, if he has any sense.  Sam has better things to worry about than pre-schoolers knowing the alphabet.

   Learning’s what kids _do_ , after all.  Like being happy.


	15. Chapter 15

   The second thing that Sam notices is Jim tying his shoes.  He’s a little confounded, but thinks that maybe Jim read it somewhere, and _hey_ , one less problem to worry about.

    After that, the things he notices don’t stand out individually.  It’s just that suddenly Jim is doing math, and brushing his hair, and Sam swears that one day he saw the kid _meditating_ of all things.

    He talks to himself a lot, more than he ever talked to Sam.  Which is fine, because Sam isn’t his godammed parent, and doesn’t need to hear about how Jim’s day went.   The kid mumbles to himself about code and equations and gibberish.  It’s a little cute, actually, because the noises Jim is repeating over and over again sound very foreign.

   Whatever, though, the kid’s probably making it up.

   (Jim isn’t.  It’s Vulcan.)

   Sam figures that there probably isn’t anything on the Net that Jim couldn’t read about at the Library terminals anyway, so he gives Jim an old PADD equipped for surfing and the password.  Jim is thrilled enough to hug him at this, and Sam shoves him off with an eyeroll.

   “Go learn somethin’,” he says, and then leaves for a party twenty minutes on the other side of town.  He's nobody's parent.


	16. Chapter 16

   Spock’s parent’s settle in an hour and a half’s travel time from Jim, and Spock is ecstatic.  He visits Jim’s town nearly daily, taking PADDs with his mother’s homeschooling lessons preprogrammed onto them.

   “Where are you always off to, Spock?” she asks.

   Spock always answers with the logic of exploring his new home, or says that he is getting to know the other half of his roots; earth culture.  He omits mention of Jim.

   Between completing his assigned work, Spock finishes exploring the museum with Jim, who assures that it’s a much more interesting experience when one can read the plaques and pamphlets.  After a week, that’s done, and Spock is worried he’ll have to scramble for a new activity they can do together, but Jim himself suggests the park, and then suddenly that’s where they meet up.

   Jim will wait for Spock under an old pecan tree, and then they will decide how the day will go from there.  The library is often an option, or somewhere in the area Jim is excited to show him and tell him about.  Spock has had such a thorough tour of whose farm is whose and all the different places the backroads lead that he thinks he could find his way around in pitch dark with nothing but a compass.

   No matter what he and Jim do or where they go, Spock strives to make every day educational.  He teaches anything Jim asks about, and helps Jim understand what he’s read in relation to the world around him.

   Spock buys Jim a hair brush and sits next to the boy beside a long abandoned barn, carefully working out every tangle as Jim tells him about constellations.  When Jim pauses, Spock takes the opportunity to summarize his method.

   “You brush the ends first, with small movements, Jim.  Then you lengthen the brush strokes and work your way up to the roots until it runs through smoothly.  My mother does it this way, and I have to as well.  My hair may set like a Vulcans, but it tangles like a humans.”

   Spock’s nose crinkles at this, and he’s obviously annoyed at having to comb it out more often than his Vulcan family members.  Spock talks a lot about his family, but Jim doesn’t mind.  The way Spock goes on about them, they sort of feel like his family, too.

   “Let me try!” Jim demands.

   “Illogical, your hair is already brushed.”  Spock regrets what he said when Jim launches himself onto Spock, knocking the older boy onto his back while he’s off guard, and seizes the brush, only to begin tugging it clumsily through Spock’s own bangs.

   The Vulcan sighs in resignation.

   “Jim, at least permit me to sit up so that you may have optimal reach.”

   Jim does, and he gives Spock a side part and swept over bangs that the Vulcan _dares_ any one of his family members to comment on later.  Only his mother is brave enough, grinning and saying that she likes his new style, but perhaps it doesn’t suit him.

   Spock responds with an icy “I am aware.”


	17. Chapter 17

   Jim keeps the hairbrush Spock got him under his pillow, and always brushes his hair first thing in the morning and last thing at night.  Spock has taught him to read and write, and tie his shoes and brush his hair, and now Spock is teaching him to speak Vulcan.

   Spock seems distressed that Jim’s lisp changes the meaning of some of the words.  He told Jim that he has been avoiding looking for reasons Jim should have to pronounce things properly.  Jim thinks that it’s because the Vulcan finds it _endearing_ , but not in the really patronizing way that the neighbors do.

   It’s alright, though, because Jim can’t really do anything about fixing it until his new teeth grown in.

   He knows that Spock would never admit to being relieved at that, but Jim also knows that even when he can say things properly he’ll still call Spock “Thpock” when the Vulcan looks too sad.

   The longer Jim and Spock are friends, though, the less often Spock looks so heavy.  Jim looks lighter too, even though he can’t see it.  He doesn’t have to; he can _feel_ it, and he feels like everything in the whole wide world is okay for once.

   Even if it wasn’t, it would be with Spock there.  They can face anything together.

 

__**a/n: i dont even know what this is anymore this chapter is like ninety percent fluff, but the last few chapters where total angst train, and i barely have a clue where i'm going.  i'm literally just expanding on a dream i had and hoping for cohesiveness.  lolol.**


	18. Chapter 18

   The next time some months later that Winona places a vidcall to talk to her boys, she has the misfortune of seeing Frank when he answers, quite obviously very drunk.  By the state of her kitchen, this is the usual, and when she asks about her kids, he looks confused.

  “It’s not sundown yet,” he says, like she is the one lacking understanding.  “They’re never back ‘til sundown.”

   Winona’s intuition starts waving red flags like they’re batons and a trophy and scholarship are on the line.

   “Frank,” she asks gently, fighting not to let her cold rage bleed into her voice.  Spooking him will not get her the information she needs.  “Where is Jim while Sam’s at school?  The daycare closes at six.”

   Frank frowns, concentrating greatly.  “No, ‘Nona, _Jim’s_ at school.  Sam works.”

   “Jim is _four_ ,” she hisses, and thinks for the first time that perhaps she is a terrible mother.

   Frank is saved from the full wrath of her ire, because in that moment Sam walks through the door, several hours ahead of schedule.  He doesn’t see the open vidcall, or if he does it doesn’t register.  His pupils are the wrong size, and his irises are the telltale muddy fuchsia of someone on too many contraband Andorian relaxants.

   “Damn,” he says when he spots Frank up, “I thought for sure you’d be passed out.”  Then Sam grabs a three day old pizza slice out the fridge and stumbles out the door again with barely a “Back later.”

   “Frank,” Winona says through an internal inferno of chaos, “I’m coming back on the next shuttle.  When I get there, you had better not be.”

   Even drunk Frank doesn’t argue.  He values his life too much for that, and through a world of spinning he packs his things and is gone before the boys get home.  There is another call at sundown.


	19. Chapter 19

   But before that happens Jim spends his days with Spock and his nights studying.  He becomes good enough at Vulcan that he and Spock speak it more than English, and since neither Sam nor Frank talk much, Jim speaks Vulcan and reads English.

   Written Vulcan is more difficult, since Jim is still clumsy with a pencil, but he practices valiantly, copying down notes for the lectures Spock gives him on history in the strangely vertical swirls.

   Eventually Spock and Jim become close enough that Jim wants to meet Spock’s family, and Spock is excited to introduce his family to Jim.  First, though, he has to tell them about Jim’s existence.

   Sybok already has many friends, and has had several of them over, but Spock has always been more of a loner, and he knows his mother’s reaction to news of his friend will be excessive.

   “Mother,” Spock says, “May I invite a friend to dinner this weekend?”

   Spock’s mother stops folding laundry to stare at him, and he resists the urge to tell her it’s rude to gawk.

   “A friend,” she repeats, even though Spock knows he spoke perfectly plainly.

   “Yes, mother.  A friend.  He will be five years of age next spring.”

   Spock’s mother _squeals_.

   “Ohh Spock, that is so cute!  Have you been babysitting?  Is that where you go off to all the time?”

   Spock looks affronted.

   “I am his _friend_ , not his minder.”  He pouts.  “Even if he is in need of one.”

   “Well, as long as his parents are okay with it, sure, invite him over.”

   Spock decides that mention of Jim’s parents is best put off for after his mother meets the boy.  Instead, he says that Jim’s older brother has already given permission, so long as Spock has him back to be picked up by sundown.  Since no one cares _where_ Jim is so long as he is back to be picked up by sundown, this is basically true.

 

**a/n: short chapters or not, how is this at nineteen already o.O**


	20. Chapter 20

   One does not become one of the most renowned xenolinguists of the century by being ignorant of body language, and to Amanda, Jim’s is perfectly clear.  The boy is hunched in on himself, and nervous to take food until Spock puts it on his plate.  His eyes are wide and wary, and any time Amanda addresses him the surprise is apparent.  Jim is comfortable around Spock, but that seems to be where his confidence in existing ends.  The boy is clearly out of his element, and Amanda has no clue how to put him at ease.

   Her husband is not making the matter any easier.  He always adheres strictly to their rule of speaking Vulcan at home, no matter who else is over, unless he is addressing the guest directly.  Amanda does not think his innocuous comments about supper are terribly helpful, if to Jim they are intimidatingly foreign.

   Except it’s suddenly obvious to her that, looking at Jim, it’s her that is making him nervous, and not any of the Vulcans at the table.  She clears her throat, about to ask, when Spock sends her a look that, were he not so young, would be downright intimidating.

   “Mother, please cease reverting to English to speak with Jim.  It is patronizing.  If he could not follow a simple conversation about the consistency of soup, I would not have invited him to dine here.”

   Jim looks relieved at Spock’s words, and Amanda wonders about his experiences at home, if he’s obviously more comfortably with Vulcan than English.  She switches, nonetheless, and asks Jim about his favorite color.  Spock suddenly looks gobsmacked.

   “Yar-kur!” (green) Jim exclaims, with perhaps more enthusiasm than anyone but Sybok is used to.  Except, no, Amanda realizes she is once again wrong, because Spock’s nearly imperceptible smile clearly show that he is more than accustomed to Jim’s outbursts.

   “I had forgotten,” Spock says, embarrassed, “about the human custom off choosing one color above all others.  It was rude of me not to ask before now, Jim.  I am gratified that my mother spoke of it.”

   Jim assures Spock that this is okay, but Spock has apparently decided that he must make up for this misstep.

   “If I had to choose,” he says, “my favorite color would be ha’pla-kur: the color of earth’s sky.”

   Light blue.  Amanda smiles.  Never before has she seen her son volunteer a single word less than the utmost of logic, and now, to please this small boy, he has very nearly admitted to a favorite color.

   If you had told her before she sat down with her two sons for that meal that she would stand up with three, she would not have believed you.  That doesn’t matter now, because someone needs to look after the precious little boy across from her with the missing teeth and the lisp, and while Spock is no doubt doing a great job, he isn’t a mother.

   Just like that, Jim is family.

 

**a/n: i stayed up all night writing, please give me the attention i Deserve**


	21. Chapter 21

   Dinner is through and the two younger boys are upstairs in Spock’s room for the half hour remaining before Jim needs to be taken home.   Sarek has suddenly found himself unsure of how well he knows his youngest son, because this is something he never could have predicted.

   It would have been illogical to assume that Spock would _never_ find anyone whom he preferred the company of, yet this introduction of a friend was unexpected nonetheless.  It has been less than two months since they made the move to earth permanent, and in that time Spock has found someone he tolerates and taught him passable Vulcan.

   ‘ _Barely passable_ ,’ Sarek thinks to himself, but once he had keened on to the speech impediment conversation rolled more or less smoothly.  Sarek was very nearly surprised that Amanda, of everyone in his family, seemed to have the most trouble with the human child.


	22. Chapter 22

    It isn’t long before Jim prefers _reading_ Vulcan to English, too; and his grasp of the alien language is better than the understanding he ever had of English.  Perhaps it is because of the daily practice and constant interaction he gets.  The entire household of Spock’s family all respect that Jim doesn’t like English very much.  English is the language his mom always chastised him in, and the language Frank yells in, distorted though his drunken slurs are.  Jim lets himself ignore what little English he’s exposed to, because now he has a real family, and it’s a million times better than the scraps of attention from Sam that Jim used to live on.

   The days blur together in trips and lessons, Jim soaking up everything Spock’s family teaches him like a sponge and _thriving._

   Reading, history, and math are hardly the only subjects Jim is exposed to.  There are cooking lessons from Lady Amanda, and Jim spiritedly argues ethics and philosophy with Sybok.  There are day trips to places of political and geographical interest with Sarek, and meals with the entire family where anything at all might be discussed.  Through it all, Spock is at his side, offering support and clarification.

   Jim’s lisp clears up, with some work and the addition of his newly grown in teeth, less than a month after meeting Sarek.

   Any tension between Amanda and Jim is also cleared up by then, and Amanda gives Jim permission to call her m'aih, a casual form of the word mother.  It is completely possible that Jim and Amanda both cry that day, and Spock is determinedly twice as stoic in an attempt to compensate.


	23. Chapter 23

   Jim regularly helps Amanda in her garden (“ _Our_ garden, Jim”) and so it isn’t unusual for him to come back at the end of the day with a flower tucked into his hair.  (Vulcans are, apparently, rather meticulous about cleanliness, and so Jim does _not_ ever leave with soil on his person.)

   Jim’s hair has gotten long over the months since he met Spock, but he likes the way it waves and curls at the ends, and he _loves_ brushing it.  For the past week, M’aih Amanda has even been teaching Jim to style it, and this day it is in an intricate Vulcan ceremonial updo.

   The first day Jim had come home with his hair styled, Frank had tried to yell at him about it; but Jim had replied stoically in Vulcan that keeping his hair from his face was logical if he did not wish to cut it.  He also said something about his hair being super cool and having more loops than the most daring escape shuttle flight plan, and no one being able to ruffle it when it was up, but Frank had given up trying to argue once he realized Jim wasn’t speaking English.

   That was usually how it went, and Jim thought it was much preferable to being yelled at and yelling back.  Maybe Frank needed to meditate.

   When Jim got back to the farm that particular day (never again would the rickety wooden building be _home_ ) Frank was nowhere to be found.

   Sam was walking past the blinking terminal when Jim pressed the button to accept a call, and Winona Kirk’s face was suddenly displayed crystal clear.


	24. Chapter 24

   The last time Winona Kirk called to talk with her sons, Jim was just over three and a half and had gotten his front teeth knocked loose climbing something.  Winona had decided to hold off calling again until Jim had started kindergarten, because a year and a half wasn’t really that long, in the grand scheme of things, and she hated having to tell him to repeat himself so many times.

   Jim was young; he probably wouldn’t even remember how often she had called once he got older, just that she had.  Then it had been over a year, and she found herself actually missing seeing that face on the other side of the screen, so she called before she could talk herself out of it.

   Unfortunately, when Frank had answered she realized that it was the middle of the day, so her boys weren’t likely home.  Then a whole avalanche of realizations had happened, and now she was staring at the call button again, dreading pressing it, but knowing she had to.

   “You can do this, Winnie.  They’re kids.  They’re _your_ kids.  Just call them and say you’ve put in your official resignation, and next shore leave you’ll be on your way back.”

   The green button blinked tauntingly. She shoved a hand through her hair and pressed call.

 

**a/n: i'm accidentally adding character insight and development where nobody asked for it?**


	25. Chapter 25

**a/n: all aboard the angst train!!!  some people are under the impression that winona can just waltz back in after ignoring her kids for a hot minute, easy peasy, no muss no fuss no coconuts.  ahahah no, fill your feel hungry bellies with angst.**

 

   George Samuel Kirk is battling a pretty vicious headache, and doesn’t notice the vidcall until Jim has already pressed answer.  He snarls at the face on the other side of the screen.

   “Oh look who decided to talk to us again, Jimmy?”

   He doesn’t address Winona directly.  After she said she wouldn’t be calling them again until Jim was _in school_ , Sam blamed Jim for a little while; but eventually he had to own up to the fact that their mother had abandoned them, and there was no sense in blaming a pre-schooler.  The hard truth of it was, she was a shit mother.  He wasn’t about to make her return into their lives easy for her.  He owed himself more than trying to hope like that.

   He definitely owed more to Jim, if she was just going to turn around and ignore them again.

   Sam squints at the too bright screen and watches the playout of expressions on her face.

   After she gets over her own flash of irritation and being offended, she looks confused. 

   “Jim?” she asks, like a fuckin idiot.  Then her eyes catch for an extra half minute on Jim, and Sam realizes that she didn’t recognize him.

   She didn’t recognize her own fuckin child, because of a growth spurt and a different fuckin hairdo.

   Maybe she mistook Jim for one of the neighbor’s kids, or some rando little girl.  Who knows what the fuck she thought?  Jim’s physical graduation from toddler to child was apparently not something she was expecting or looking for.

   All the anger Sam thought he was over comes back tenfold.

   “Jesus Christ, you didn’t even recognize your own fuckin kid!”  Sam’s yelling, and he hates himself a little for it, because it reminds them both of Frank and has Jim shrinking in on himself, but Winona deserves it.

   “ _Yeah_ , _he grew_!  Kid’s fuckin _do_ that.  The sprout up like weeds, and they need to be fed and bought new clothes, and half a hundred other things that you weren’t here for, and-”  Sam stops yelling, because the screen goes black.  Jim’s standing in front of the console, blinking up at him calmly, having just ended the call.

   “Probably for the best, kid,” Sam says, skipping his usual hair ruffle in the wake of Jim's braids.  He pats Jim on the shoulder and goes upstairs to sleep off his migraine.


	26. Chapter 26

   Going to bed so early the day before has Sam waking up before the sun, and half of him wants to roll over and go back to sleep.

   The other half _knows_ that Winona is going to try calling them again today; probably earlier because it’s a weekend, and she doesn’t know his schedule.  Not that he’s going in to work today anyway.

   Sam knocks on Jim’s door, and finds the kid meditating again.  It’s weird, but all the different things Jim does are starting to ring a bell now that he’s sober and focusing.

   Nobody really pays much attention in the highschool xeno classes unless they’re planning to go into a career where it matters.  Sam is no different, but you’d have to be pretty disconnected (or drugged to the gills) not to know a thing or two about Vulcans.  They’re the species that pretty much heads the federation, and from what Sam’s ninth grade textbook said, they’re all about meditating and weird hairstyles.

   Sam doesn’t remember seeing any Vulcans around town, but if he’s honest with himself one could’ve moved in next door and he probably wouldn’t have noticed.

   Jim’s behavior lately means he’s probably gone and gotten himself a little surrogate family, and Sam is glad, because the one Jim was born with was a complete strikeout.

   “Kid,” he says.  The situation probably calls for something a little more personal, but Jim is always ‘kid’ in Sam’s head.

   Sam sits himself down haphazardly on the floor against Jim’s bed.  He thinks about how if he were more noble he’d have stayed sober, and Jim would tie his shoelaces into bows instead of whatever zigzag contraption of string is holding his shoes to his feet.

   “I haven’t been the best brother.  In all my tryin not to end up having to be your parent I kind of overdid it.  It’s never really been the best situation for us; I’m a kid too, ya know?”

   This is probably the most Sam has ever really _talked_ to Jim, and he hopes the kid still knows enough English to keep up.  Sam doesn’t worry about whether Jim is smart enough.  Jim’s a bit of a whiz.

   “Frank lied, alright?  You’re not dumb, or useless, or doomed to be a failure.  You’re none of those things, even though I kinda am.”  Sam’s smile is self-depreciating.

   Jim says something in Vulcan that’s probably supposed to be comforting.  It helps a little, even though Sam doesn’t speak a word.

   “Look, Mom’s about to try comin’ back into our lives, but the way I see it is if we just let her, then there’s nothin really stopping her from droppin us like last week’s news again.  You deserve better than that, and I’m not exactly runnin a revolving door service on parental units myself.  So this family you found, d’you think they’d- that is, are they willing to look after you?”

   Jim gives a slow, wide-eyed nod.

   “Alright.  Alright.  Then this is what we’re gonna do, okay?”

   Sam stands to go get the biggest suitcase from the attic for Jim to use.  He’s done a lot wrong since Winona left; made a lot of the same mistakes as her.  He can do this right, though.  Because unlike their mother, Sam knows when he can’t do something, and it’d be better for Jim if he let go.

   His thoughts sink back to some of Frank’s worse drunken episodes; the bruises and cracked bones he barely felt through mind-altering substances.

   Sam may be a failure at a lot of things, but he’s not about to chance anything like that happening to Jim.

   He’s gonna split town, just like he always planned.  He’s just gotta make sure Jim is safe first.

   Sam thinks that that was probably always his plan, even when he couldn’t focus to remember it.

 

**a/n: what the fuck did i just write!!!!?????? this was an accident!! ahhhhh!!!**


	27. Chapter 27

**a/n: look, i promise i had a plan, and it was a very nice, happy plan, and _this was not it_**

 

   Sam answers Winona’s second call when Jim is upstairs packing.

   “Anything you want,” he’d said, “out of any room in the house,” and meant it.  There wasn’t really much of value around, but if this worked out like Sam was hoping, then neither of them would ever be back on the farm again.

   He’s much calmer for having a plan, and when he answers the vidcall (the third, because he is not completely without spite) it’s with a falsely cheerful smile.

   “Hey Winona,” he greets, and sees her purse her lips like she has any right to the title ‘mother’ from thousands of lightyears away.

   “Sammy!”  The cheer in her voice isn’t fake, and Sam bites the inside of his cheek to keep from yelling.  The truth of it is, even when she was on earth when Jim was a baby, she wasn’t there emotionally.  Something in her had died with George, and her disconnect from the reality of the situation itched uncomfortably beneath Sam’s skin.

   “You fucked up,” he enunciated clearly, speaking slowly so that she couldn’t miss a single word.  “You fucked up, and it fucked _me_ up, but by some miracle Jim isn’t fucked up yet, so I’m not about to let that happen.”

   “Sam, I’m your _mother,_ you can’t just-”

   A deep breath, and Sam parrots the words she’d said to him when he’d been younger and crying for her not to go back into space.  “ _This is not up for discussion_.”

   Somehow that gets through enough for her to flinch, and Sam is the one to end the call this time.

   Jim is in the kitchen doorway, awkwardly big suitcase dragged behind him.

   “All packed?” he asks.

   Jim nods again, and Sam’s glad his bag was already in the car (had been for months, waiting.)

   “Got your Vulcan’s address?”

   Another slow nod from the kid.

   “Okay," that was it then. "Say goodbye to the house.”


	28. Chapter 28

   Winona makes the first call to her boys full of worry and optimism.  Sam’s face appears on screen, along with a little girl with a flower in her Dr. Suess hair.  It’s probably one of Jim’s friends, and she finds the idea of a play date cute.

   Then Sam calls the little girl Jimmy, and Winona has to look closer to see the curve of her nose and the blue of her eyes.  For a moment she’s surprised she never saw how much like herself Jim looked, but she’s always seen George’s ghost in that face before, rather than her own freckles and jawline.

   Winona is snapped out of it by Sam’s yelling, as if she doesn’t know that children need clothes.  She’d raised _him_ , and-

   The screen goes black.


	29. Chapter 29

   She doesn’t really think twice about the fact that she hadn’t immediately recognized Jim.  He looked different with his slimmer features, with his front teeth grown in and his longer hair up.  It was an easy mistake to make.

   She gives Sam some time to cool off, and calls again the next day.

   This time, she’s ready to face off a mad Sam and explain that with shore leave next month, it would be less than two before she was back home, and they could talk about his behavior.

   Expecting him to be mad means that his smile when she calls throws her, and her face pinches when he calls her ‘Winona.’

   She thinks it’s doubly impersonal, that her son doesn’t even have the grace to call her Winnie.  If Sam keeps being so obstinate then this will be difficult, but she supposes teenage years aren’t supposed to be easy on the parents.

   She’ll admit she made a mistake with Frank, but that’s over now.

   “Sammy!” she exclaims, because attitude or no, this is the first time she’s talking to her little boy in quite some time.

   Then Sam is cussing at her, and accusing her of having messed him up when she’s _clearly_ doing her best now that she _knows_ about Frank.  She’s just about to reprimand him for that when his voice gets cold like George’s used to, when she’d suggested leaving a much younger Sam at home to go out on a date, or forgotten to fix food when Sam hadn’t _told_ _her_ he was hungry.

   It’s a voice that was always followed by the sentence “He’s just a _kid_ , Winona,” and she wonders if maybe she had deserved that earlier use of her first name.  Sam’s name may be George Jr., but she hasn’t really seen much of it, before.

   She can’t address the matter, though, because Sam’s hung up on her again.

   She calls again the next three days, before deciding she’ll deal with it when she gets home, and wonders how many times George would have tried calling the boys if they refused to answer.

   (She doesn’t know that George would have called the local cops to drive down and check on them, because it doesn’t occur to her that they really _need_ checking on.)

**a/n: that is it, i am going to Bed, all this angst has done me in.  i'll write more cute stuff next.  just.  right now i need Rest.**


	30. Chapter 30

**a/n:  okay, i am aware that all this angst is not what you signed up for, reading the summary, and i'd like to say i'm sorry, and also that it's sam's fault, because he went and gave himself a character depth that i quite frankly (hah) wasn't expecting.  winona is at this point seeing more of her husband than her kids, and has a lot to work through, but i really didn't mean for those characters to spin out of control the way they did.  Now, i've had some (perfectly understandable and reasonable!) requests for more cute content.  so.  i hope you like your cute with a side of bittersweet.**

 

   Jim listens to the angry rumble of Sam’s car as is quakes beneath him.  He thinks distantly that he’ll probably miss riding in it with his brother, the grumbling wobble an outlier in the world of hovercrafts and transporters.

   Without the speed of the magnet train or the convenience of city to city beam sites, it takes seven hours to get to the house he’s used to spending his days at.  Sam comes around and scoops him up onto his hip, and that’s the sharpest reminder Jim could ask for that this isn’t just goodbye to the farm or what’s passed for parents so far.

   He wraps his arms tight around Sam, and snuggles into his older brother’s neck as he knocks sharply on the door.

   Amanda opens it smelling like brownies, and Jim thinks she must be really worried about something if she’s baking chocolate.   Then she sees them and nearly bursts into tears, reaching her arms out to hold him and ignoring the ketchup on his face.

   “M’aih?” he asks, confused at her hysterics, and perhaps a little concerned.

   Sam must know something he doesn’t, because when he sees Lady Amanda tearful and reaching, he smiles like all the relief in the world has just been poured into his bones.

   “Go on, Kid,” he prompts, “Your mother was worried about you.”

   This spurs a whole new set of hiccupping waterworks from Amanda, but Jim reaches out to her anyway, and hugs tight to make her feel better.  She doesn’t get hugs much, so maybe she needs one.

   “I’ll get his suitcase,” and then Sam heads to the back of the car, followed by Lady Amanda’s questioning look.


	31. Chapter 31

   Sam’s not really worried that a human answered the door, once he sees the worried lines of her face, and the way she sways with relief upon spotting Jim.  Just because he never _had_ much of a mother doesn’t mean he can’t _recognize_ one.

   He gets Jim settled into the woman’s arms, then goes to get his suitcase.  If the way her crying redoubled itself at his comment about her status in Jim’s life is an indication, then it means she speaks English.  That’ll make this next bit flow a lot easier.

   Sam gets back to the door to find a typically stoic Vulcan, robes reeking of incense, next to Jim and the headscarf lady.  He looks the sort of lost of someone who needs something to do, to be able to focus on something besides how overwhelmed they are.  Sam has no compunctions about grounding the man in the here and now.  He's just a helpful kinda guy.

   “Here, this is heavy,” he says, and shoves Jim’s suitcase at the alien.  He snorts at the raised eyebrow he gets in return.  The guy's knuckles are white with the grip he's got on the thing, so Sam's counting that as a win on the good samaritan scale.

   “It’s Jim’s stuff.  Couldn’t tell ya what’s in there.  Knowin the kid, he packed dad’s old library and forgot clothes.”

   The tone of Jim’s voice, even around the strange syllables of Vulcan, clearly indicates and indignant “I did _not_!”


	32. Chapter 32

There is a human in Sybok's home.  This is not an unusual circumstance, considering that his Step-Mother and youngest brother are both humans.  (Sybok feels comfortable accepting Jiminy as a brother because he is intensely fascinated by the loose interpretations humans have for family.  He lives in a mixed household, and relishes the interesting perspective it presents.  Presently he is trying out the custom of nicknames.)

  
There are two things, however, that _are_ unusual.  The first, is that Jiminy is present after dark, when he hasn't been all day.  The second, is that there is a teenage boy with similar hair and facial structure in the foyer as well.

  
The new boy introduces himself testily as Sam, and says that he brought Jim in his car today because it wasn't safe for Jim to go back.

  
"Is it your Step-Father?" Spock asks, having crept in quiet as a cat, and the gangly human shakes his head.

  
"Nah, Frank ditched when Winona told'im to scram.  No one's out at the farm now.  It's as good as empty for the next two months."

  
Sybok's parents both speak at once, his mother exclaiming about lack of safety while his father's spine tenses and he asks if the authorities should be called.

  
"Oh sure, call'em now," Sam huffs, "If you want them to find Frank before he's too far gone and send us back to 'im.  'Course, big as Jimmy's gettin, it won't be long before the lout starts takin drunk swings at the kid too."

  
"Sam," Amanda says, suddenly all warm concern, "If you're telling the truth, then we _have_ to get the police involved."

  
"I'm not saying don't.  You absolutely should.  Just, give Frank a few days to be well and truly to the winds, first, and for once not the three sheets kind.  Set your case to get custody taken from Winona.  Two months leaving us without supervision is like, criminal level neglect, right?  Gotta be.

  
"Offer to foster Jim, if that's an option.  I want the kid taken care of, y'get me?  That's why I'm at y'all's door.  I'll stick around long enough to be evidence, witness, whatever, if you need me to.  But after that, I'm gone.  I got places to be," his eyes flick to Jiminy, and for the first time turn warm.  "My little brother just needs a real family, first."

  
"You will stay for dinner at the very least," Sarek states, not an inch of room for argument in the instruction.  "There is much that must be discussed."

  
Sybok watches the skill with which their new guest wields sarcasm admiringly.

  
"Oh, I get to go over my life's sob story, _great_."

  
"That is not great," Spock says with a confounded blink from where he's crept to Amanda's side.

  
Once Jim's attention is properly shifted to him, he's squirming down from Amanda's arms to go stand at Spock's side, explaining sarcasm and asking about brownies.

Amanda keeps a closer eye on them than is usual, still worried after today's ordeal.

  
Sybok had not, until that moment, realized how unbalanced the household felt.  When those two are side by side, the world rights itself with a twist of his stomach, where it rests next to his heart.  His emotions must not have been properly compartmentalized, before.  He hadn't even noticed the odd weight of constant discomfort until it was soothed.

  
How _fascinating_.


End file.
